THE SAGE AND THE FOOL
by Neil Davies
Summary: Who is the teacher and who the taught in this exciting hostage crisis in which killers find their rage blunted by the calm wisdom of the tao.


9

THE SAGE AND THE FOOL A kung fu story by Neil Davies 

(Contains violent scenes)

Rarely surprised by anything he saw on the trail these days Ethan was somewhat put out to see a solitary figure walking, not riding, in the same direction as himself. Why would any man want to walk out here in this arid wilderness populated, as it was by predators both animal and otherwise?

Drawing closer Ethan was further astonished to find that the walker was barefoot, Indians aside he'd never met a barefoot man before and this guy wasn't from any of the tribes with his wide brimmed black hat and rather tatty clothing. These things marked him out as a vagrant, but even vagrants never wandered this far from civilisation.

Walking upright on the balls of his feet the man had a spring to his step that spoke of good health not liquor induced decline, he was tall and slim and his arms swung freely with the head held high. As Ethan drew level the man cast him a look and Ethan noted a curious mixture of ethnic features, chief amongst them being Chinese. Yet this guy was unlike any coolie he'd ever met, most of them either worked on the railway or in laundry mills.

No gun unless it was hidden inside the jacket or backpack, and if it was the man would surely have begun reaching for it when he heard Ethan's mount approaching. He registered neither fear nor suspicion on the lean, oddly becalmed face. The narrow eyes radiated a serenity and peacefulness that were startling to one hardened by border conflict, these were violent times full of ruthless men but the stranger had an almost child-like innocence.

A simpleton?

Ethan decided to check, "Where are you heading friend?"

The man slowed his pace, "Two forks." He said so softly that Ethan barely heard it, the voice was low but clear, no not a simpleton.

"Did your horse die?" he asked thinking of those he'd lost to rattlers and gofer holes.

"I have no horse," came the honest reply.

"No horse, how far have you come?"

There were no other settlements for miles, unless you counted Indian camps and they were best avoided. In response the stranger simply shrugged, either he didn't know or he didn't care. There was about him no hint of fatigue or sun stroke, and he didn't even seem dehydrated as though he could walk all day across this terrain.

"Do you want a lift, I'm heading to Two Forks in fact it's where I'm stationed. The name's Ethan Carlyle, captain."

The stranger shook his head telling Ethan that he was kind but no assistance was required. The captain did think to ask what business a half-breed with no horse would have at the settlement but why should he care, the land was full of transients and drifters these days; the Indian wars had seen to that. Plus over recent months he'd learned not to pry into a man's affairs too deeply.

"All right friend it's up to you, by the way I didn't catch your name."

Before it could even be given Ethan was hit with such force that he was dismounted instantly, he felt the stunning pain of impact and then he was flying free of horse and saddle, pitching through space out of control with something large and sweaty holding onto him, something with hands, feet and a rasping breath.

Then he hit the ground and lost his senses, the last thing he was aware of it was the painted lines on the hate filled face and in that instant he knew he was going to die. Blackfoot or Comanche he couldn't be sure, and it hardly made any difference as they both handed men in uniforms.

Wild Fox straddled the soldier and drew the tomahawk from his waistband, with one blow he would cleave open the skull and remove the long blond hair, hair of that colour was most highly prized by his people and by himself personally for he had his own inner reasons for detesting the army.

However the next thing he knew the axe was no longer in his possession, it had been plucked from his grasp with ease and was held by a strange man who was neither white nor red, some tall alien with bare feet who tossed the weapon aside as though it offended him. No warrior would ever waste such an advantage so this man had to be a fool and that case he would die first. Getting up Wild Fox took out his knife, carved from the thighbone of a bear and advanced. This would not take long and then he could get back to the blond soldier, a cunning feint and then a single lunge to the belly would end it.

But seconds later he was hitting the dirt with his belly on the far side of the tall man and not sure why, how could he have been so clumsy? Scrambling to his feet and spitting soil he turned to find the man waiting, stance somehow different, prepared even gracefully defiant. Enraged Wild Fox attacked with a tribal scream, which he was sure could paralyse even the bravest foe.

The valley flipped over sky becoming ground and ground sky as he lost touch with the earth and plummeted insanely through the air to crash even harder onto shale that cut his back and stole his wind. How could this be happening? He was an accomplished fighter who had never lost such a skirmish to any man before.

Back on his feet but weary he noted that his opponent wasn't even breathing heavily and didn't seem all that concerned. Wary now he circled him, so this was no fool after all but something completely different, as crafty as a coyote and lithe as a snake. Wild Fox didn't lunge again he closed the gap by degrees scanning for any opening, as he had been taught by his father Black Fox a man who had later disowned him.

The stranger seemed to do nothing but stand there in that odd way of his hands moving but not as other men would, and why didn't he have a knife?

When Wild Fox attacked again he found his arm caught, its joints locked painfully together and he had little choice but to release his knife watching it fall helplessly to the sand, then a bare foot smacked painfully into his midriff sending him crashing to the ground once more, this time not able to get up quite so quickly.

Damn this wretch he would pay for his insolence.

But a mocking laugh cut into his thoughts of vengeance and gazing up Wild Fox saw a familiar handsome, bearded face watching him.

"You're getting old Fox, time was you'd have filleted this Chinaman with your first attack."

Pride stung the Indian stood up to dust himself down, he was bruised and tired and his blood boiled with hatred. The newcomer sat on a tall black horse and wore an equally black long coat, the pockets of which were big enough to hold several types of gun including the colt he now had in his left hand.

"Don't move Chinaman you interest me, Fox is that soldier boy dead? Then tie his hands, wake him up and bring him over here."

The bearded face of the rider swung to Caine, the eyes glistening with merriment and cruel mockery.

"My name is Black, Jedidiah Black. You may have heard of me, I'm sure you're blue bellied friend has as his regiment have been hunting me down these past six months. This is Molly my right hand and a damn fine shot even if I do say so myself, and this scallywag on my left is Oates, a one time soldier in the union army himself before he realised that pay is more important than patriotism."

The girl was a redhead in her mid twenties with guns on both hips she had an earthy beauty in no way diminished by her simple homespun garments. Oates was an older man with grey at both temples who stank of cheap whisky and favoured a repeater rifle slung over his left shoulder.

They cut an incongruous sight Black and his entourage, a collection of misfits thrown together by fate and greed.

"I am Kwai Chang Caine," said C and nodded his head humbly.

"You fight well mister Caine, Wild Fox is a pure blood Comanche brave with dozens of scalps to his name. Maybe you could be more of an asset to my little group than the good captain over there. Ah captain you're awake again, I hope that nasty swelling over your temple isn't too much of an inconvenience; it's hard work ransoming damaged goods."

Ethan let his eyes burn into the three riders he knew them of course, especially Black who had a big price tag on his life. The girl had killed two soldiers during a fire fight recently and wasn't to be underestimated, as for the older man – Ethan spat at the shoes of Oates' horse.

"You damn traitor," he said and Black burst out laughing.

"Oh dear me a man who bears a grudge, still its good to see he isn't concussed. Pull yourself together captain you're not at West Point now."

This found a nerve and Ethan inwardly seethed at the insult, "You sir disgrace the name of that fine academy." He told Black, but nothing could dent that supercilious grin it seemed. Black gloves came together in a mocking clap,

"We have a spare horse thanks to your raiding party captain, our Mr Clegg came to an unfortunate demise some way back and is now feeding the vultures. I'm afraid you and Mr Caine will have to share a saddle, but it won't be a long ride."

Wild Fox snapped, "Let me kill the Chinaman!"

Black shook his head and it was clear he exerted a curious authority over these people, once an officer always an officer Ethan mused even if not a gentleman.

"He intrigues me, and I would know more. Maybe later if I deem it essential you can have his scalp, for now he rides with us."

Ethan knew the army wouldn't pay a cent to these animals even for him, policy was clear 'no deals with outlaw gangs'. It made sense of course, if you paid one you'd end up paying them all. However this meant this his future looked bleak indeed, Black was a ruthless cold-hearted killer and as soon as he realised there was no profit in keeping his prisoners alive…

Up on the horse he took the reigns, his wrists bound and weapons gone. Caine sat behind him as calm and composed as he had been before, perhaps he didn't know he was a dead man. "We have to try and escape from these people," Ethan told him but the Chinaman didn't respond so twisting around the saddle the army man looked at him. "Did you hear what I said son?"

Nodding slowly Caine still didn't give a reply, it was almost as if he didn't care.

"No talking," Black ordered. "We ride hard and quiet until we reach camp, and then you can bitch and moan all you want soldier boy."

Wild Fox threw Caine another murderous look then slowly drew a finger across his own throat. Ethan shuddered having seen Indians do that before.

The camp was in a gully ringed on all sides by hills and boulders it was a good choice for a hideout because it was invisible on horseback until you were virtually on top of it. Telling Oates to start a fire, Black dismounted and went over to his prisoners. Ethan needed a helping hand to get down, but Caine swung himself to the ground with ease and his hands were no longer bound. Noting this Black arched an eyebrow, "How did you get free we searched you for a knife?"

The only response was a shrug and the slightest of smiles then Caine was assisting Ethan off the horse.

"How come you didn't make a run for it?" Asked Black and Ethan was genuinely curious himself, it would have been easy for a lone man to lose himself in the scrub and cactus. It was almost as if Caine didn't mind being taken prisoner, that it was something he was used to and he didn't fear his abductors. "You're an odd sort of fellow aren't you," said Black? "If I didn't know better I'd say you believed you could take me," ending with a sneer the bandit turned away to look at Ethan. "Looking a bit worse for wear captain, it must be all that soft living." And turning away he sauntered over to the girl to slap her behind, she turned on him like a rattler but he caught her wrists with an easy smile.

Watching them resentfully Ethan tried to free his own wrists but found he couldn't, the binding was just too tough. Caine erected two fingers and swung them down in a chopping motion, instantly the bonds were severed as though hit by an axe. Frowning in wonder Ethan gazed at the man, "Where the Dickens did you learn something like that?"

Caine looked up but in his eyes was a vague distance.

Po approached the apprentices with the usual tapping of his stick, there were eight boys and they were paired practised attacks and defences. One youth would grab or punch and his partner would defend using the techniques they had learned at the temple. As ever Po's gaze was drawn to Caine, who was taller than the others due to his western blood. He listened intently and his practised ear picked up on the fact that Caine's defence was crude, a push block that didn't really work and then a palm strike so harsh it threw his opponent back. An experienced master Po could sense the inappropriateness of the movement.

"_Relax grasshopper it is not necessary to crude force, here let me show you."_

_And handing his stick to Caine, the old man took his place._

"_Now Lam, you attack me in the same way as before."_

_Anxiously Lam threw a good punch, with almost no effort and very small movement Po evaded the punch, caught the arm and locked it at the elbow rendering his opponent helpless with one smooth, simple process. He then redirected him around his own body so that Lam pitched in an arc to the ground._

"_You see grasshopper to defeat aggression does not require force merely the ability to yield to the inevitable and let it pass you by."_

_Caine did see and his smile revealed this, Po was wise and a true master._

"_I'm sorry sir, I keep thinking of a fight as a test of strength."_

_To which Po replied, "There are many strengths grasshopper, sometimes the greatest of these is acceptance."_

They were led at gunpoint by Oates to a position west of the fire and made to sit down, Ethan squatted on his haunches but Caine crossed his legs and reclined into a yoga-like posture. He always seemed so in control so unhurried, as though nothing got to him, not even the threat of imminent death. Ethan whispered, "These people are cold-blooded killers you may regret not running for it when you had the chance."

But Oates overheard this and his mouth curled into a cynical sneer, "The Chinaman was smart captain, my gun was trained on his back all the time and if I missed him Wild Fox would have taken great pleasure in hunting him down."

Glaring at the man resentfully Ethan snapped, "I don't understand you Oates riding with a man like Black, you used to value honour and tradition, how could you turn your back on the army. Him I understand he's rotten to the core, but not you."

The next instant the woman Molly was stood over them hands on hips, her bosom thrust forwards provocatively and a mocking smile on her lips, Reaching down she removed Ethan's hat to run fingers through his thick mop of hair. When he shook his head violently she caught him by the ear and yanked hard, the next instant her gun was under his gun and her lips were close to his eyes.

"You'd better bring a big ransom soldier boy because if you don't I'm going to take great pleasure in blowing your proud head off." She let go and glanced at Caine, whose eyes were fixed on the fire in a meditative fashion. "He gives me the creeps, we should have left him for the buzzards."

"We will," said Wild Fox tossing logs on the fire. "Minus his scalp," he spat at the bare feet but there was no response.

"It'll be dark in an hour," said Oates. "I think one of us should stand guard on higher ground."

Molly smoothed her skirt, "Feel free old man." She said and strode away with a haughty swing of the hips. The look Oates threw her was full of dark misgivings but he didn't say anything, instead he eased closer to the prisoners.

"None of us will get out of this with our skins unless the army pays up, even then I'm not sure Black will let you go. I'm sorry but that's just how it is."

Watching the old man depart Ethan felt a stab of pity for him, a small stab but it was there. He was a man who had lost his way and fallen into bad company, not evil just foolish. He was right though Black couldn't be trusted to keep his end of the bargain the only chance was to fight back.

"Can you use a gun Caine?"

At last the deep eyes left the fire, "I cannot."

"Well you may have to learn and pretty fast to."

"I do not need a gun," came the reply and it was loaded with disgust.

"Listen mister these are desperate people who have taken life without batting an eyelid, they don't deserve any pity."

Caine's only response was to sigh and lift his eyes, the light was fading but it was still possible to see an eagle soaring high over the desert a majestic bird of great beauty and freedom. "All life deserves compassion," C said. "And all choices must be honoured." He closed his eyes to hold in the image of the eagle.

Wild Fox could not relax in his mind he replayed the fight with C and grew increasingly angry. He was a proud warrior, a brave of his tribe and humiliation did not sit well with him, especially not as it had been viewed by his new master. Rising he picked up his best axe and headed for the prisoners. It didn't bother him that Black wanted these men alive, the army captain would live but the tall Chinese had to die.

Ethan stirred, his sixth-sense for danger alerting him to the presence of approaching feet. Eyes open he didn't move a muscle, having been out on the frontier a long time he's mastered the Indian art of stealth the ability to be wide awake and yet totally still. He saw Wild Fox approach but the Comanche wasn't interested in him, he eased past and crept to where the other prisoner was – or rather had been!

He found an empty space, there was a hollow where Caine had been but no sign of the man himself had he made a run for it after all?

With an oath Fox swung back to Ethan and there was murder in his eyes, lunging forwards he raised his weapon. Quickly the soldier rolled aside and just in time, the axe blade struck the ground where his head had been moments earlier. Getting up Ethan looked around for a weapon but there was nothing, he was unarmed and helpless against this axe-wielding, bloodthirsty brave.

Fox swung at him making him back up until he was out of room then the axe rose to deliver a decisive blow.

Suddenly out of nowhere a bare foot struck the Indian's raised arm and the weapon was gone, tumbling into the night. Howling in pain Fox spun around and the same leg kicked him again, this time in the chest sending him pitching over the dark dead coals of the fire to scatter these like acorns.

When Fox picked himself up Caine was before him, arms moving in strange patterns, hands open yet curled like the claws of some big cat.

Ethan watched enthralled as the Comanche lunged at Caine, kicking and poking with his own hands, fighting like a wild beast. Using his palms and elbows to deflect the blows despite their high-speed, Caine squatted and spun in a full circle one of his legs chopping the feet from under his opponent who crashed to the dirt badly winded. Fox wasn't kayoed but he was hurt, and rolled onto his side grunted and gasping.

That was when Black and Molly appeared with guns drawn, their expressions harsh and full of disapproval.

"What's going on here damn it?" Black snarled.

"Fox tried to kill me," said Ethan. "Caine stopped him."

Looking over at C with renewed admiration Black then let his gaze dip, "I told you to leave the Chinaman alone Fox, I'm not used to having to repeat myself so I won't."

A single shot ripped through the gloom and Fox was still, a hole in the middle of his chest. Ethan stood there stunned at the cold-blooded nature of the murder, he wasn't sorry to see Fox dead but he was sickened by Black's clinical detachment.

"Molly will you get Mr Caine a shovel, he's going to bury our late colleague given how fit he's feeling I'm sure it won't take him long. You can help him if you like captain, after all it was your life he saved."

"You'll hang for this," Ethan spat.

"They don't hang men who kill Indians captain, they give them rewards." Black was unrepentant, as Molly appeared with two shovels.

"You know Chinaman it occurs to me that a man of your ability is worth more than a few miserable dollars, I'm going to make some enquiries because I've a feeling you just might yield a bigger bounty than the captain here. Now get working!"

Dawn brought stiff muscles and a sore back to Ethan, after the gruelling task of burying Fox he'd had to lay on hard ground and now his body was protesting in the most acute manner. Yet he found his partner not only awake but on his feet and doing some kind of strange dance a few yards away, clearly he wasn't stiff or in any discomfort. As he watched the dance Ethan realised that what he was seeing was more than mere recreation it had a practical basis. Caine was throwing punches and kicks along with all the other strange gestures and steps, this was a form of training and it was related to why he was able to beat Wild Fox with such ease.

Waiting for it to finish he opened his mouth to speak but a slow handclap cut into any possible questions and there stood Black with Molly by his side and neither of them looked pleased, in fact Black had his gun out and it was aimed at Ethan.

"Not so much a nickel will the army cough up for your life captain, they made it very clear to me that if I kill you they will only redouble their efforts to find me. This isn't saying much as I can outrun them any day, but it does leave me with two very irksome dilemmas."

The gun swung to Caine, "You on the other hand my friend have a ten thousand dollar ransom of your head, the Chinese Legation don't care if you are alive or dead just so long as I can prove my word."

Astounded Ethan also gazed over at Caine, "Ten thousand dollars what for?"

Black moved closer to Caine, "You're too dangerous to take to San Francisco alive so I'm afraid it will have to be the latter option."

The sound of a trigger clicking made Ethan sick to the core, but there was no loud explosion, no flash, so spray of blood. Instead Caine merely plucked some small objects from the pocket of his jacket, they were bullets and too many for one gun. Taking out both her weapons Molly tried them with the same negative result.

Almost contemptuously Caine hurled the bullets away from him so that no one would be able to find them.

"Oates get down here," Black snarled but the Chinaman shrugged and it was almost an apology, he took Oates' hat from under his jacket and waved it in their captors' faces. Mr Oates would not be taking any further part in this conflict.

"We will leave now," said Caine. "There is no profit for you here, only an opportunity to learn."

"Learn what?" Black snapped in frustration.

"That violence is the way of the fool."

Ethan couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud.


End file.
